


Together

by Andropedia



Series: Together [1]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Dancing Prompt, F/F, The Feast of Winter Veil, Vereesa is boss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 02:35:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17153687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andropedia/pseuds/Andropedia





	Together

“Are you going to ask her to dance?” Vereesa pipes up next to Sylvanas, her gaze following her sister’s across the room towards the table where the future king of Lordaeron and his supposed fiancee are located. Even after being married and bearing children, she can still be the little, annoying brat of a sister she used to be all this time ago, standing next to her older sister in her almost unacceptably revealing, green dress and long silvery hair, rocking back and forth on her heels with her hands folded behind her back, a self-congratulatory smirk on her face.

 

“I don’t think that would be appropriate.” the slightly taller elf comments calmly, and rearranges the dark gray skirt of her dress to cover her legs, already being annoyed the other elf has talked her into wearing such an impractical and pointlessly revealing dress. – Half the surface only consisting of straps, and slit on both sides.

 

“Why?” Vereesa frowns at her. Of course she wouldn’t see the problem. She never did. Sauntering off with her human mage lover, while Sylvanas and Alleria took the majority of the blow of their mother’s anger. “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

 

Just as Sylvanas is going to muster a reply, the young Lady Proudmoore lifts her head and looks over, their gazes meeting halfway, neither of them able to look away. The mage’s hands are orderly folded into her lap, sitting seemingly attentive to the conversations going on around her, but at the same time disinterested and tired. A moment goes by with both of them just looking at each other, before the human offers a small, pursed smile, only so slightly tilting her head to the side, now an almost inquisitive expression on her face. A sad expression, that Vereesa has never seen before, passes the older sister’s face and she begins to lift her hand, but before she manages to show any kind of reaction, the human woman looks away again.

 

“Do you want _me_ to ask her for you?” Vereesa needles again. “Or the prince?”

 

“And I don’t think your husband would appreciate _that_.” Sylvanas comments, desperately trying to reason with her sister.

 

“ _Pffff_ , please. Arthas has nothing on Rhonin. Or _you_ for that matter.” the youngest Windrunner sister gives back cheerily, but nonetheless empathetically bumps shoulders with her sister. A moment later Alleria appears next to them. “What are you two looking at?”

 

“Oh, nothing. I was just telling Vanna about the twins.” Vereesa offers nonchalantly, pinches Sylvanas behind her back.

 

“Yes. Yes, they have grown so much.” she hastily replies jumping a little, and the youngest sister has a hard time stifling her laugh, because Sylvanas going for a casual tone is kind of _very_ funny. Alleria knits her eyebrows together for a moment, but then just waves her hand dismissively and vanishes into the crowds of nobles again. “Have fun you two.”

 

 

 

Jaina officially hates this dress. Her favorite dress. – That’s what it used to be. But now she simply doesn’t see the point. Playing dress up and swaying to music she isn’t in the mood for, with men she doesn’t even care to know, so her mother can go on parading her around. Even though she is an adult woman. Even though she’d be able to demolish this whole building at will without so much as lifting a finger. Shards of ice bursting through the brick work, tearing walls and columns apart. The thought becomes more tempting by the minute. Yes, it’s the Winter Veil, she knows that. But still.

The worst thing about the dress is that she won’t be able to run or fight in it, long widths of cobalt and white silk wrapping around her legs and body. Although flattering to her figure, without purpose other than present _the goods_ , while she as well could be out there, protecting the innocent and slaying the wicked. Or at least build a snowman.

 

“… don’t you agree Lady Proudmoore?” Uther asks, and honestly she has no idea what they have been talking about, couldn’t care less. For a second she contemplates giving a noncommittal answer, masquerading the fact, but then opts to simply shrug at the question, passive aggressively taking out her frustration with the situation on the older man.

 

“Jaina.” Arthas hisses, visibly annoyed by her reaction.

 

“Excuse me, Lord Uther, I haven’t been paying attention.” she offers curtly, but her tone gives away the dishonesty of her apology, prompting the younger man to get a hold of her arm and lightly shaking her, as if intent on waking her from a slumber. “What’s up with you?”

 

“Nothing, I was just thinking about something.” She offers, this time with a bit more effort, but Arthas only hums sarcastically.

 

“I’ll leave you to it.” the Paladin politely excuses himself as soon as it’s obviously inevitable the young ‘couple’ is going to have a falling out. Both of them look at each other defiantly, anger rising between them. Jaina glares at Arthas, while he practically looks down at her with his usual dismissiveness and misplaced pride. And Jaina is about to erupt, giving him a piece of her mind. She has been fed up with playing pretend for the longest time. And with his, despite him knowing _everything_ , and by his own words accepting it, unwillingness to confront their parents about it. Seemingly clinging to the hope she might be coming around to it after all, despite the fact his kind isn’t even on her dance card. Her hands tighten around a fold of fabric of her dress she is holding, tension building in her body. Even involuntarily starting to drop the temperature around them, while the man folds his arms in front of his body, straightening out his posture.

 

Suddenly their quarrel is interrupted by Sylvanas stepping into the scene, greeting the prince with a small curtsy, which he barely manages to raise an eyebrow at, before leaning down into another one towards the mage, overly polite offering her outstretched hand.

 

At the gesture Arthas gets up, practically _jumps_ up, looks like he wants to protest, a mixture of incredulity and indignation on his face. – Jaina can practically see his temper flare even higher at the elf's supposed insolence. But Sylvanas looks right past him. If anything her expression is challenging him top actually make good on the gesture.

 

“Lady Proudmoore.” the taller woman’s honeyed voice greets her, completely ignoring her company, a playful smile breaking from under the arrogant facade she has been carrying all night. “May I ask for this dance?”

Both women hold each other’s gaze for a long moment, the mage looking back at her with an intense expression on her face, the anger immediately leaving her body. Arthas raises his hand in a gesture of protest, and from the corner of her eye Jaina can see something like desperation in the look he regards their quiet exchange with. Because he knows, he just refuses to acknowledge it.

And maybe there might be some truth to that, _jealousy_ , but she knows him better. – Her friend from before their parents decided to get involve. Well enough to know if anything he is worried about the consequences, _the appearance_ , this might eventually entail. Not only for him, or _them_ , but for her.

But there are no rules against it, and she is honestly tired of all this. Sitting there, her thoughts revolving around the beautiful woman across the room who she been trading looks with, confined by social norm and her mother’s wishes; The way her mother concerns herself with her life; The idea, her fate and love might have already been settled for her. So in this act of defiance, purposefully disregarding her mother’s best intentions and obvious worst inclinations, she offers her hand back, a gracious smile on her face. Every last move, every twitch of her face choreographed, measured. Testimony to her noble birth. “I would be honored, Lady Windrunner.” the human woman purrs, prompting the elf to take her up on her offer and ghost a courteous kiss to its back, before pulling Jaina up from her seat with a gentle tug of their connected hands.

The dance floor is crowded already, the passage of the evening into night drawing many to the exuberance and magical delights of the Kirin Tor’s lavish festivity; Nobility, mages and military officers of the Alliance making circles around the ballroom. Quiet steps flying over the dance floor, as the dancers are completely engrossed in the music. Brass and woodwind players framing a single violin. Soft and sharp melodies alternating as strings and bugle take over, only to lead back into the violin, hypnotizing the guests with its magical tunes.

Jaina lets the elf woman lead her into the center of the crowd, right under her mother’s eyes. They take their positions during a few moments of silence as the small orchestra rests, preparing for the next set of music. The taller woman offers her her hand for the taking, and as Jaina drapes the other on her shoulder, gingerly places her free one on the small of the human’s back. Long, sharp fingers dig into the fabric of her dress, prompting the mage to smile warmly, before letting go of the other woman’s shoulder and adjusting her hand upwards on the surface of her back with a smirk.

 

“The Lady Proudmoore cares for her modesty.” the elf comments and her hand settles firmly under Jaina’s arm this time.

 

“The least a Lady can do if you insist on leading.” the mage replies easily, prompting both of them to smile at each other, despite the lighthearted nature of their exchange holding onto their grace.

 

“Especially a Lady as beautiful as yourself.” Sylvanas flirts, and before Jaina can reply the music starts again.

 

At first they are just swaying to the rhythm, still settling into a routine. It gives them time to just enjoy the company, as they slowly turn to the music; Neither of them apparently having no other choice but looking into each other’s eyes. After a long moment of practically melting into the other’s gaze, the overture is over, and the music quickly evolves into a serene waltz. Both of them are adept dancers, one way or the other accustomed to the ways of the Alliance’s nobility and trained in its customs from an early age. So they quickly fly over the dance floor, fleet-footed performing twists and turns, neither of them daring to take their eyes off the other, losing themselves in the buoyant music and each other. It almost seems like they are carrying everyone else along; A strange ease about their combined movements, as they lean into each other and part again, alternate between quick turns and steps.

 

“You are an adapt dancer.” the elf establishes once the music slows down.

 

“So are you, Lady Windrunner.” the shorter woman replies with a smirk. “One can only hope you are as adapt in all of your endeavors.” she flirts lightly.

 

“You have no idea.” Sylvanas gives back suggestively, raising her eyebrows.

 

“This confidence in your own prowess is remarkable. Hopefully you suit the action to the word.”

 

“The Lady Proudmoore can take me up on my word any time.” the taller woman whispers into Jaina’s ear, her breath tickling the mages pulse point, finally managing to elicit the reaction she was hoping for, as a soft shade of pink settles on her face.

 

“You are impossible.” Jaina replies, slightly tilting her head, giving her her best scandalized expression, but then just chuckles.

 

“I love your dress.” Sylvanas whispers, pointedly looking down in between them, but this time the comment apparently misses his intended effect, because the mages face quickly twists into a grimace.

 

“I hate it.” she replies, nonetheless with a cheerful glint in her eyes. “I didn’t knew _you_ even owned a dress.” She adds a moment later, again smiling.

 

“There are a lot of things you don’t know.” the elf informs her dryly.

 

“So I’m told. Especially when it comes to the mysterious and most beautiful Lady Windrunner. I like it though.” Jaina bends backwards and stretches her arm in a sweeping gesture as the current piece ends. The next song is slow, so they get to be in each other’s arms again. The longer their dance lasts, the closer they get; Bodies pressed as tightly together as modesty allows; Gentle finger playing on their skin as they lean into each other.

 

“I missed you.” Jaina says quietly, purposefully pressing their faces together. “All evening.” She adds with small, sad smile.

 

“I missed you _all day_.” Sylvanas replies “But Vereesa tried to set us up since I came here. You can count yourself lucky to have such a great friend.” she informs her a moment later.

 

“And you can’t?” Jaina asks playfully, comfortably resting her head on the woman’s shoulder for a brief moment.

 

“I’ve been blessed with her interference enough already.” the taller woman gives back with a rare amicable smile – she can see her sisters smug expression over the other woman’s shoulder – and for a moment increases the distance between them, spinning them around, as the music picks up for a small interlude.

 

“Are you going to tell her?” the shorter woman pulls herself closer Sylvanas’ body again.

 

“How could I not? I’d have to concede my claim to the most beautiful company of the ball.” the elf replies with another smirk, uncharacteristically flirtatious, and a soft blush settles on the other woman’s face once more.

 

“Claim?” she manages to reply in feign affront, even though she doesn’t care the slightest.

 

“Unless you’d rather that honor falls to the man child.” Sylvanas retorts, an overly serious expression on her face. It’s a bit unfair, Jaina thinks. But the tall woman doesn’t know him like she does. And he really wasn’t on his best behavior this past weeks.

 

“’Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jaina whispers with a small shake of her head, and as they turn away from the room again presses her lips against the elf’s cheek, hoping she actually means that.

She saw her own mother’s expression a few times during their dance; She never looked particularly happy once she spied them in the crowd. But she really doesn’t care right now. Because. This is it. The one thing that makes the evening worthwhile. That means _everything_ to her. So if she wants a fight, she can have it. Her mother, the whole of Lordaeron and even the general, who has clearly also taken notice of them. Even if she isn’t sure whether Sylvanas has noticed yet. She isn’t going to hide anymore. Because _they_ need _them_ , all of them. Not the other way around.

 

 

She spends a long moment musing over the thought; Breaking their relationship to everyone. Vereesa will surely be more taken aback by the fact she wasn’t the first to know than anything else. Her mother will throw a fit. Of course. But she is pretty sure Alleria knows more than Sylvanas thinks, because the older Windrunner’s expression has been strangely… indifferent the whole evening.

A few turns later, her gaze finally meets Arthas’. He doesn’t look particularly happy, but there is something in his expression she remembers from before. A roguish tug on the edges of his mouth; A little wink she almost misses during their next turn. The gesture brings a little smile to her face, and fills her with relieve and the hope her hasn’t lost her best friend yet.

 

“I love you.” Jaina announces after they have been swaying for a long while, her head again resting against the elf’s shoulder.

 

“I love you too.” the taller woman’s hand slides dangerously low on her lower back, sending a small shiver through her body already.

 

“Maybe don't do that here.” Jaina says playfully. “You wouldn’t jeopardize my modesty?”

 

“I wouldn’t dream to.” Sylvanas replies quietly, and pointedly walks her hand up the shorter woman’s back again. But on the next turn she suddenly can see Vereesa and Alleria what looks like ganging up on their mother on the gallery, apart from the crowds. She tilts her head questioning, for a second slowing down to keep them in view longer, panic rising inside her. Why didn’t she resist the temptation? Instead giving in to the ill fated notion of romance and her selfish wish to present _them_ to the world. But then she can feel Jaina’s hand tighten around her own.

 

“It’s going to be okay. _We_ are going to be okay.” the human informs her, not even caring to lift up her head from he body. “Together.”

 

“Together.” the elf whispers at first, brushes their cheeks together, lightly shoving Jaina’s head of her shoulder, and sets down their other hand on her own waist. The mage gives her a question look, for a brief moment locking eyes with her, still faintly swaying to the music neither of them is really registering anymore. When their dance eventually comes to a halt amidst the crowds, she simply pushes herself up, closing her eyes, as she presses her lips on her lover’s; The gentle kiss sealing their agreement.

 

“Together.”

 

 


End file.
